Knowing Us Clark POV
by Page Library Page
Summary: Clark was a teenager when he first heard about Batman. For years he followed Batman's exploits; the superhero was one of the reasons Clark decided to fight crime. He never really stopped watching Batman.


**Title:** Knowing Us (Superman POV)  
**Fandom:** Batman/Superman  
**Blanket Disclaimer:** I write stories for FUN, not money. I don't own any of the characters or places I write with, I just play with them. Again, NOT MINE!  
**Author's note:** I LOVE REVIEWS! I eat them for breakfast to give me energy for my day! Creative Work of the Day for Monday, January 25, 2010.  
**Warnings: **Un-Betaed, so all mistakes are mine.  
**  
Summary:** Clark was a teenager when he first heard about Batman. For years he followed Batman's exploits; the superhero was one of the reasons Clark decided to fight crime. He never really stopped watching Batman.

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It's always been something of an addiction, watching him work. He's so focused on what he views as his duties as The Batman that I've never figured out why no one else managed to make the connection; Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham City, is also her masked defender.

I've been a close follower of his work since he first appeared. In fact, I can remember exactly what I was doing when the story came on the news...

_"A masked crusader has emerged from the shadows of our city. Calling himself Batman, this vigilante was key in both the recovery of hostages and the capture of a notorious crime lord." A video clip started playing, showing the shadowed figure standing proudly atop one of Gotham's highrise buildings._

_"The only question now... Is the so-called Batman really a hero? or is he just another psycopath Gotham's streets have cooked up?_

_"Now, back to you, Wally."_

And that was the entirety of the unveiling of one of mankind's greatest heroes. I'd felt, at the time, awed and I'd had this wild notion that he was just like me. As I sat on the couch with my homework, I'd thought about what I wanted to do with my life. Surely, as a reporter, I could have created a much better story; any idiot could see that Batman was trying to help the city he loved.

As a reporter, it seemed logical to gather as much information on the man's actions and whereabouts, what he did, who he did it with, basically everything. I dread the thought of him ever seeing my childhood room as there is an entire wall dedicated to images, news clippings, and my own thoughts on Batman. I can admit I had, still have, a bit of a crush on both the mystery and the man.

I'm blushing now, thinking of his reaction, how that eyebrow would go up and his eyes would hold just the tiniest hint of laughter if ever he were to see my home. I know that he'd be thinking he now has something to tease me with. The "Great Superman" was a high-school-girl at heart, postering her crush all-over her room.

From the very first moment I heard of him, I felt that, with the powers we both surely shared, we were meant to be heroes. It was Batman, more than anything else, I think, that convinced me to not only use my powers, but to use them to help mankind.

* * *

I remember one time, about a year and a half after he first appeared, there was another news report. This one claimed that "The Batman Slain!" My heart stopped when I recieved the Gotham Gazette (I'd held a subscription for as long as I can remember, but only ever read it after Batman started appearing in it's pages) and I felt the loss so greatly that I couldn't bring myself to go to school that day.

Instead, I lay in bed, pretending that it was all a bad dream and that the man who had swiftly become both my hero and moral compass was still alive.

I'm not sure if he even remembers it, but Bruce and I did meet while I was still in school. It was a freak accident (they tend not to be so freaky when you live in Smallville), and Bruce Wayne had been stranded in our little town. His car, an import, needed some specialty part that couldn't be found on-the-shelf anywhere near us, so the man had needed a place to stay.

Mom, sweetheart that she is, couldn't let him stay in the one dingy motel with no electricity or running water. No, she offererd, or rather ordered, him to stay with us. 'We have a pullout couch and I'll fix you a big breakfast in the morning before you leave.' she'd said. I don't think anyone has ever said no to Mom when she uses that tone of voice.

After eating dessert, which Bruce arrived just in time for, I headed out to finish my chores before bed. Bruce followed and even gave me a hand, I'm sad to say that it surprised me; Bruce, dressed to the nines, was willing to get down and dirty to help a farmboy clean out the barn and feed and water the animals. That may have been the moment I started falling for him.

He left after breakfast the next day, looking relaxed and refreshed and possibly a little _too_ full (Mom's breakfasts are huge) and I remember shaking Bruce's hand and knowing that our paths would inevitably cross again sometime in the future. It was all I could do to stay patient during the intervening years.

* * *

Sometimes, when I'm floating in the sky above Gotham, I think back and wonder if it's strange he hasn't yet noticed me when I check up on him. I have to remind myself that, contrary to both popular belief and physical proof to the contrary, Batman is only human.

"Tell me exactly what a farm-boy like you is doing in a city like Gotham?" his voice cuts through the cold night air.

Then again, maybe he's not as human as I'd originally thought.

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**TBC...**


End file.
